


flowers rise, stormy skies

by etoilette



Series: AU-gust 2020 [9]
Category: Persona 5
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Feudal Japan, M/M, Twins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-09
Updated: 2020-08-09
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:46:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25819054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/etoilette/pseuds/etoilette
Summary: “My name is Shido Goro, son of Lord Shido Masayoshi of Owari. I have come here to discuss with you the matters of our alliance, as per the details of our correspondence.”“You’re so high-strung!” Amamiya laughs airily. “I know who you are and why you’re here. Of course we can discuss all that.”ORShido Goro of Owari is sent to Tottori to work out a concrete alliance with Lord Amamiya Akira. It's hard to talk shop when the person you're supposed to be working with is more interested in wasting your time though, not to mention that Akira is a completely different person at times. This is the most frustrating job Goro's ever had to undertake.
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Amamiya Ren, Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro/Persona 5 Protagonist, Amamiya Ren & Kurusu Akira
Series: AU-gust 2020 [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1860436
Comments: 3
Kudos: 60





	flowers rise, stormy skies

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Day #9: Royalty AU. This one really gave me trouble. I didn't want to do European royalty AU so I chose to do it vaguely based off of the feudal Japan bugyou system (IMO it's still ROYALTY, in the sense of all the plot points would line up? The idea of like political intrigue, hierarchy dictated by family, etc.) but I didn't want to do research because I didn't have the time. All of this is loosely based off of Sengoku BASARA, to be very honest. Think of this as a Royalty AU (but not really) set in a Feudal Japan-adjacent world.
> 
> As a whole, the idea is simple: kagemusha Ren, lord Akira, visiting lord Goro. Kagemusha is essentially a political decoy or body double, by the way. But I don't know! Something about this really rubs me the wrong way. I think it's because I usually plan out my stories beforehand so I know exactly what I want and where I want to go, but for this one, I held off on it and in my opinion, it's a mess. After August, I'm definitely going to come back and revamp this one.

Goro sits across from Amamiya Akira and eats from the small cup of chawanmushi that had been placed in front of him. He can feel Amamiya’s smirk on him the entire time, the sharp grey eyes never wandering away even after Goro sets the bowl down and looks up at him.

“It’s delicious,” he says, because he has manners.

“Hm,” Amamiya says, because he was raised in a barn. “Our land is famous for our chawanmushi, even though we go about it in a bit of a strange way, with the harusame and all. I still had full confidence that you would like it, though.”

The chawanmushi is indeed delicious, damn him, but the confidence in Amamiya’s voice rubs Goro the wrong way. He fights against his instinct to scowl at him and smiles instead, the mask fitting on his face with practiced ease.

The Amamiya Palace is a grand red-and-black affair, visible even from a distance with its sheer size and its location on the hill overlooking the rest of the town. In Goro’s opinion, it’s certainly not as magnificent as Shido’s golden palace, but there is something quaint about its callbacks to tradition and religion, such as in the row of toriis on the path up to the main entrance. 

The trip from Shido’s land to the Amamiya territory had taken Goro and his retainer almost three nights of nonstop travel, and he had to admit that he had not been looking his best at the time. He’s not sure anyone could look good after consecutive days of camping and horseback riding, honestly.

But he would have never imagined that Lord Amamiya Akira, the current head of the Amamiya household and lord of Tottori, would have greeted him with the words, “Why did Lord Shido send a ruffian here?”

“Amamiya-sama,” the tall dark-haired retainer - Kitagawa, Goro learns later - behind Amamiya had said, his tone sharp with rebuke. 

Goro shook his head, his arm in front of Sumire in case she tried to leap off the horse and physically fight Amamiya for the insult. The immediate disrespect was quite different than the almost overly polite letters he received over the course of their written correspondence, but perhaps Amamiya is better with his writing than with his spoken words.

“My name is Shido Goro, son of Lord Shido Masayoshi of Owari. I have come here to discuss with you the matters of our alliance, as per the details of our correspondence.”

“You’re so high-strung!” Amamiya laughs airily. “I know who you are and why you’re here. Of course we can discuss all that.”

Goro expected that the majority of his time away from Owari would be spent on travel, that he would perhaps spend half a day in the Amamiya estate at most to work out the terms and conditions of their alliance before going on his merry way. 

However, Amamiya just loves the sound of his own voice. He lets Goro see almost everything inside the palace, from the artwork to the sculptures to even the stables where he shows him Futsunushi, his prized thoroughbred war-horse. No matter how often Goro presses at him to allow them a chance to talk  _ business _ , Amamiya refuses, finding some excuse to show Goro a prized ukiyoe or famed katana.

It isn’t until nighttime, with the moon starting to rise in the sky, when Goro is forced to sit down in Amamiya’s private room with a low table full of food for a late dinner, that Amamiya allows Goro to talk business. 

It takes only a few minutes for Goro to work out the terms and conditions for the alliance between Owari and Tottori against Chugoku; he hadn’t even finished his kobachi of takuan before Amamiya claps his hands against his crossed knees with a pleased “That sounds great!”

With his chopsticks in his mouth, despite knowing how it’s bad manners that’ll reflect poorly on his upbringing, Goro has to bite down on the polished wood hard to avoid letting any of his dissatisfaction show on his face.

“Truth be told, when I was told that the son of Lord Shido would be the ambassador, I expected someone a lot more brutish. I’m told that you spend more time fighting to expand the country, instead of learning how to rule it by your father’s side,” Amamiya says between bites of rice. He doesn’t seem troubled at all about Goro’s cold attitude.

Goro shakes his head, clenching his fists and allowing the billowing robes he wore for his dinner with Amamiya to hide them. “Yes, but I have been trained in diplomacy as well, of course. As the future heir of my father’s land, it wouldn’t do if the only thing I knew how to wield was my sword.”

Amamiya smiles at him, a distinctively lecherous hint in his expression. “There’s a particular sword that I would certainly want to see you yield.”

“Amamiya-sama,” Kitagawa says sharply, but Amamiya waves him off. 

The polite mask on Goro’s face barely slips. If this cheeky upstart thinks he could do any worse than the rats living in Owari’s court, he has another thing coming. “If you would like to see me wield my Hinokagutsuchi **,** I suppose I could give you an up-close view of it.”

“No, thank you, Shido Goro. I’ve heard tales of your prowess on the battlefield. You could behead me on the spot if you so pleased, yes?

“I suppose I could,” Goro says, noting out of the corner of his eye that Kitagawa has shifted his stance into a slightly more cautious one, a gloved hand resting on the hilt of his sword. He closes his eyes, purposely allowing his lack of interest in a fight to show on his face. “But why would I, when your retainer would slay me for it right after?”

Amamiya shrugs. “But then your adorable redheaded retainer could kill Kitagawa. Your country would still be the one who comes out on top.

Sumire, Goro’s retainer and kunoichi, takes a step back, and Goro curses her silently in his head, though he never allows the small smile to leave his lips. Sumire’s inexperience shows in how easily she is unnerved by empty threats, and he’s sure that both Kitagawa and Amamiya have noticed that.

Instead of berating her in front of everyone, he says in as dismissive a tone as possible, “Why constitutes as a win for you, Lord Amamiya? With the loss of its lord, wouldn’t your country fall apart immediately, even if you’re able to take my life? I’m nothing more than one of the many sons of my Lord; you kill me and another one will simply take my place.”

Amamiy doesn’t say anything for a while, and Goro could swear that a hard light has entered those oddly grey eyes. For the first time since Goro has met him, there is a serious air about the Lord, no longer teasing or inappropriately flirtatious. It seems that he hit a nerve.

But before he could think of what to say to smooth it over, just on the off-chance that Amamiya rescinds his alliance, Amamiya claps his hands once. The screen doors next to them open and the servants bow as they come in, clearing the low tables of food. Goro frowns; it isn’t as if he had still been eating, but he has never seen a Lord simply take away a guest’s food without at least asking if they’re done with their meal.

“I apologize. I did not mean any offense,” Goro says, twisting his frown into a smile once more, making sure it’s soft and pleasant as opposed to the mocking one that must have been on his face earlier. It was an amateur move on his part, to allow his conversation with Amamiya to scrape away at the usual veneer he dons for political meetings.

Akira shakes his head, his expression open and easy once more. “None taken. Well, it’s already late. I can’t in good conscience allow you and your adorable kunoichi to go back out into the forest at this hour, even with your combat abilities. There’s a room prepared for you, just down the hall - you can’t miss it, it has a crane on the screen door. Please, I insist that you spend the night here.”

“Master,” Sumire says nervously, and Goro shoots her a glare, shutting her up instantly. 

He looks back at Amamiya with a smile and stands up, bowing politely. “Thank you, Lord Amamiya. Please forgive us for taking advantage of your hospitality.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Amamiya send him off with a lazy wave, and he bites down the click of his tongue with an effort. The rudeness of this lord is unspeakable. Even disregarding his behaviour during the dinner, why in the world would he not assign a guide for someone during their first visit to a castle?

If he was to pull a stunt like this in front of a visiting Lord while in the court of his Father, he would have been beaten and starved for days as punishment. He doesn’t know what kinds of people raised Amamiya Akira, but he supposes they either died when he was young, or they allowed him to do whatever he pleased.

Goro stalks through the halls of the Amamiya Palace, uncaring of how hard he slammed his feet against the polished wood. He must indeed sound like the brute that Amamiya had claimed him to be, but he could hardly care, especially when Amamiya was the one who first started with his blatant display of disrespect against a visiting lord. 

“Master,” Sumire whispers, reaching out lightly to pull on Goro’s sleeve. 

“I know,” Goro hisses back, making sure that his voice was even softer than the faint footsteps behind him. He reaches inside his robes and clutches the grip of the wakizashi. As soon as he turns the corner, he presses his back against the wall, sensing Sumire do the same behind him, her breath held in anticipation as she pulls out her kunai.

The footsteps pause before they speed out, and Goro watches as a head of messy black hair rushes past him down the hall, their pursuer looking around frantically and somehow missing Goro and Sumire right behind him. That is, until Sumire jumps out with the grace of a snake, holding the pursuer in a headlock and her kunai pointed against the pale neck.

“Who are you?” Sumire demands, her high voice shrill with nerves. She’s always had a somewhat queasy stomach when it comes to violence, unlike her more talented and experienced twin Kasumi, but Goro had been insistent that Sumire accompany him on the journey, eager for her to accumulate experience so that she could be promoted from simply being a glorified maid around the Shido Palace.

Unfortunately, he hadn’t taken into account that Amamiya would have tried to assassinate him, so sure he had been in Amamiya’s integrity from the letters they had exchanged prior to their official alliance.

(Oddly enough, after seeing Amamiya in person, he could very well see Amamiya being the type of person to bait him to Tottori, only to assassinate him for whatever reason.)

There’s something strangely familiar about that curly black hair though, and the deep voice that the would-be assailant as he struggles against Sumire’s hold. “Turn him around,” Goro command. 

Sumire nods and spins in place so that she and the assailant are both facing Goro. He isn’t sure whether or not to feel surprised when he finds himself looking into the sheepish face of Amamiya Amamiya. 

“Lord Amamiya, why were you following my retainer and I through your Palace?” Goro asks, his voice too sharp to be considered civil. 

Sumire’s eyes widen at the realization of just  _ who _ she is holding and she releases Amamiya, backing away nervously. 

Goro clears his throat and affixes his smile back onto his face, making sure his voice is light and friendly again when he asks, “Did you perhaps not trust us to find the room that you yourself said was easy to find?”

Amamiya shakes his head, and there’s something skittish about his movement, completely unlike the self-assured and steady way Amamiya had held himself throughout the entire time Goro had been with him over the past few days. Goro narrows his eyes suspiciously and Amamiya backs up, his hands up next to his face as if to show that he held no weapon.

“I apologize for the disrespect I showed earlier,” Amamiya stammers. It’s the  _ same voice _ , and yet somehow different. “I just...wanted to talk with you.”

There is an easy and almost casual joking manner in the way that Amamiya talked during all of their conversations earlier, but this Amamiya sounds softer in a way. His voice slightly higher, and nervous in a way that makes Goro think that he’s constantly a second away from clamming up completely.

He looks over at Sumire to see if she has noticed it, but there is a blank look of curiosity on her face as she stares at Amamiya. Useless. She’s just wondering what Amamiya is doing following them.

Goro allows his smile to take on a gentler air, and he notices a trace of pink on Amamiya’s cheeks. Strange, considering he spent the entire dinner using this particular mask and Amamiya had simply leered at him the entire time.

“What is it that you wish to discuss with me?”

“Um…” Amamiya says, looking down and away at the ground, one hand coming up to fiddle with his bangs. “How do you like this country?”

Amamiya had asked this exact question when giving Goro a tour of the Palace, and Goro remembered giving a noncommittal one: It’s a lovely place, for sure, but compared to the hustle and bustle of Owari, it’s a huge change of pace. 

“The view of it is interesting,” he says slowly, unsure of whether or not Amamiya wants a different answer from before or not. “The dunes and close distance to the ocean on all sides amaze me. Despite only being a three days journey away, it feels as if I’ve entered a different world.”

Amamiya nods excitedly. “The world is a fascinating place, isn’t it, Lord Goro. I would love to hear more about Hinomoto from you tomorrow.”

Finding no reason to refuse, Goro nods. Amamiya’s smile widens and he bows with an apology before going back down the hallway. Sumire and Goro watch him until he turns a corner and disappears, and Sumire breathes out a heavy sigh of relief before running towards Goro, standing so close to him that he finds himself wondering just who is supposed to be protecting who.

“Did he follow us just to ask that question?” Sumire asks in Goro’s ear. 

Goro shrugs. “Who knows. Amamiya Akira is a strange person. I wouldn’t be surprised if he just wanted to hear me talk about his precious Tottori again. Let’s rest. We have a long day tomorrow.”

X

Ren sits in his room, penning down a poem dedicated to the sands of Tottori on a scroll of paper, his brush strokes firm and sure as he allows the words to simply flow from his heart and into the world. He looks up when he hears a distinctive knocking pattern - two times short, one time long, and then two times short again - on the wood of the sheeted door.

“Come in,” he calls out, and he isn’t surprised at all to see Akira walk in the door, a knowing smirk on his face. With Kitagawa around, secrets aren’t secrets for very long in the palace. Ren places his brush in its stand and bows low, until his forehead hits the tatami.

Despite being twin brothers, Ren is still Akira’s kagemusha and one of his shinobi. In every way that matters, Akira is his superior.

“I heard from Kitagawa that you tried to talk to Goro?” Akira asks. 

Ren nods, looking down on the ground at Akira’s feet. “I saw him walking out of the banquet hall without a guide. I thought I would watch him to see if he reached his room safely.”

“How was he? You wanted to talk to him in person for so long, right?”

The letters that Ren and Goro exchanged prior to Owari finalizing the decision to work with Tottori in upcoming territorial skirmishes had been focused on business, but through it, Ren could see the genuine love for Owari that Goro had, could see in his writing the calculating and scholarly individual underneath the role forced upuon him by his father.

Goro in person is everything he had heard of and imagined, and he had perhaps broken his usual character of ‘Akira’ a little too much around him. It didn’t seem like he noticed though, if the warm smile on his face was any indication.

“He was amazing,” Ren smiles. “We’re going to talk more tomorrow. I think he really likes me, Akira.”

“You mean he likes  _ me _ ,” Akira laughs. 

“Ah, yes,” Ren says around the sudden sinking in his stomach. “How could I have forgotten.”

“You’d do well to remember, Ren,” Akira sighs. He sits down and leans forward, reading Ren’s half-finished poem without permission. “You’re just Amamiya Akira to the world. No one knows about Amamiya Ren, and no one will ever know. Anything you do and say reflects upon me so make sure you don’t break character again.”

Ren nods and watches as Akira picks up the brush to add more lines to the poetry. Maybe tomorrow, when he shows Goro around Tottori and listens to Goro regale him with tales of wars and travels, he can allow Goro a glimpse under the mask.


End file.
